The Ice Man's New Clothes
by lost-in-arendelle
Summary: When they were in the mountains together, Kristoff didn't worry too much about the "I'm in love with a princess" thing, but now, back in her enormous castle, stuffed into fancy, ill-fitting clothes, and surrounded by heirlooms more valuable than his life, he's starting to wonder if he's making a fool of himself- and worse, a fool of Anna.


"Mr. Bjorgman? Is something amiss?"

As soon as he heard Kai's disapproving drawl, Kristoff dropped his arms and scowled behind the dressing screen. He could see Kai's shadow on the other side, short, portly, and militantly straight. He'd never seen a man with such excellent posture, or such a talent for making a guy feel like he'd been raised in a barn without saying a single word.

Was something amiss?

He turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Oh, everything was amiss. He didn't even know where to start. An hour ago, he'd been eagerly, blindly following Anna back to the castle, thrilled just to stand beside her and hold her hand. Even when they reached the Great Hall and she and Elsa were surrounded by fussing servants, ambassadors, and aristocratic guests hurling hundreds of questions, she kept her hand in his and smiled at him like he was the most important person in the room. And that… well, he would have climbed any mountain, slayed any dragon, fought any man just to see her smile at him again. When she was beside him, he felt whole, he felt _home_.

Even if he was standing in the most uncomfortable place on earth.

A place like this opulent guest room, for example. If he moved more than two steps in any direction, he was pretty sure that he would break something worth more ice than he sold in a year.

Kai cleared his throat.

"Sir?"

Kristoff sighed and shuffled out from behind the screen. Shuffling was really all he could manage. He wasn't even sure if he should breathe. Kai coughed suddenly and covered his mouth with his hand.

Kristoff glared at him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Certainly not, sir." He cleared his throat again, shoulders shaking suspiciously. "I'd say several things are amiss, hmm?" This time, he couldn't hold back a chuckle.

Not that Kristoff could blame him. He looked _ridiculous_.

"I can't move my arms," he muttered, "Or my legs. And-" He gestured helplessly to the mess of fabric _mostly_ covering his chest. "Could we try something with fewer buttons?" He swallowed. "Please?"

"Your shoulders are broader than I guessed," Kai said. He took pity on Kristoff and stepped behind him to ease the too-tight jacket from his back.

"_All_ of me is broader than you guessed."

"I will send a boy to fetch the tailor."

"The _tailor_?"

"Yes, of course," Kai said wearily. "A man who makes and measures gentlemen's clothing?"

"I know what a tailor is."

_I've just never been able to afford one_, he added silently.

"If you're to stay with us for any length of time, you'll need day and evening attire, cravats, cufflinks, gloves," Glancing down at Kristoff's boots, he wrinkled his nose, "_appropriate_ footwear."

Kristoff fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and waistcoat, desperate to get them off his body. Every expensive word added to Kai's list made the clothes feel tighter.

"I- I don't think-"

Kai silenced him by yanking the shirt over his head.

"Insisted upon and paid for with the private funds of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle." He arched an eyebrow as he folded the shirt. "And I would not argue with the queen."

Elsa was buying him clothes? Had Anna put her up to this? He raked a hand through his hair, thoroughly confused.

"Could I speak to An- to Princess Anna?"

"Princess Anna is addressing her own toilette. You'll see her in the drawing room before supper." He sighed. "_If_ we can find you suitable evening attire by then."

Kai gathered up the rest of the ill-fitting garments, leaving Kristoff standing in trousers he couldn't wait to peel off and never see again.

"I will summon the tailor," Kai said, walking briskly to the door. "You might take a nap while you wait." He closed the door behind him.

"A nap?" Kristoff's voice echoed off the tall ceilings.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd indulged in the luxury of a nap. Warily, he eyed the grand bed with its plush coverlet and pillows, all a deep, deep blue. Stepping and struggling out of the trousers as he walked, he approached it, and taking a moment to glance to his right and left, he gave in to temptation and dove into the center of the mattress with a running leap.

This was _much_ better than landing on snow or sleeping on a haystack.

Sprawled on his back on the softest bed he'd ever touched, he folded his hands under his head and stared up at the painted ceiling.

"I'm in the castle."

If he said it aloud, maybe it would start to feel real.

"I'm dining with a queen and a princess."

Something in his heart constricted on the last word, accompanied by an image of Anna laughing, eyes shining with mirth as his family dressed him up in fronds and moss. She was so beautiful, and not just on the outside. Today, he'd watched her treat every person they'd met like a friend, regardless of their age or station, and he'd loved her for it.

He'd lost his faith in human goodness a long time ago, but Anna made him believe again. In the days they'd spent together, she'd made him laugh and care and wish for things that a poor ice harvester had no business wanting. She was so open, so trusting, so full of warmth and kindness- it was impossible not to love her.

In the mountains, he'd almost forgotten that she was a princess, had almost convinced himself that it didn't matter, but here... every mammoth corridor, liveried servant, and priceless painting reminded him that he was wrong.

He cringed. If Elsa kept the gates open, the castle would be swarming with suitors before the paint dried on her coronation portrait. Rich, titled, educated men who belonged in a room like this, with a princess like Anna. He couldn't even fit into the clothes.

"Princesses don't marry peasants," he muttered, though it physically hurt to say the words out loud. "What am I doing? I don't belong here." He sat up, rubbing the muscle above his heart. "I'll- I'll make a _fool_ of her."

If she liked him at all, she wouldn't after she realized what a bumbling idiot he was, after his lack of social graces and ignorance of etiquette embarrassed her in front of whatever prestigious people dined with the royal sisters. He swallowed. The thought of disappointing Anna made that ache in his chest ten times worse.

Determined to apologize and leave the castle, he searched for his own clothes, belatedly realizing that Kai had taken those, too. He pulled on the only clothing available- a burgundy robe hanging in the otherwise empty wardrobe. Agitated, he paced up and down the room until he heard a knock on his door.

Relieved that Kai had returned, he stalked to the door and yanked it open.

Only to find himself face to face with the very person who consumed all his thoughts and fears.

"_Anna_," he said, her name escaping with his breath.

She smiled impishly and ducked inside, closing the door behind her. Dressed in a simple, plum-colored skirt and slightly paler blouse, she looked soft and beautiful - a woman he was dying to kiss, not an untouchable princess. She blinked at his robe and half-bare chest, a blush creeping from her neck all the way up her cheeks. He pulled the sides of the robe tight and quickly knotted the belt.

"I- That is, I heard Gerda and Kai talking about your clothes," she said, twisting her fingers at her waist and cringing as she looked up into his eyes. "And Kai can be- well, I was afraid-" She trailed off, frowning. "Kristoff?"

"Your hair," he whispered, transfixed.

She touched the top of her head.

"Does it look bad?"

"_No_."

Her frown transformed into a radiant smile.

"At least you didn't hesitate this time."

He shook his head, aware that he was still staring but completely unwilling to stop.

"I've never seen it down before."

Her hair fell in loose, gentle waves to her elbows, framing her face with vibrant color, making her blue eyes appear even brighter. He watched the strands dance across her cheeks and the arc of her collarbones as she tilted her head, her expression beguiling and almost bashful.

"Oh, well, I ran off before my maid could finish." She shrugged, but she sounded shyly pleased. "I heard Kai and Gerda in the hall and I was afraid… Well, I was afraid you'd feel uncomfortable."

She sat down on the edge of the enormous bed, her stockinged feet dangling above the rug. She was so small that her body barely dented the mattress. Kristoff sighed, resisting the urge to scoop her up and cradle her in his lap.

_Ice harvesters do not scoop princesses into their laps. _He threw up his hands instead.

"Because nothing fits me and I've never had a housecall- I'm sorry, a _castle call_, from a tailor before?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Because I don't know the difference between day clothes and evening clothes? Because Kai said something about three forks and two spoons and _I_- I'm lucky if I don't have to eat with my hands?"

His shoulders slumped. He raised his eyes to meet hers, dreading what he needed to say next but knowing it was the right thing to do. She deserved so much better than him.

"Anna, I'm not a prince."

For a long moment, she simply looked at him, her expression unusually serious.

"I know," she said quietly.

And then, to his surprise, she held out her hand. Unable to deny her and longing to move closer, he sank onto the bed beside her. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, sending her tipping into his side. Without saying a word, she lifted his arm and ducked under it, tucking herself close against his chest. His arm settled around her back, his hand resting against her waist.

He was too stunned to breathe. He held very still, until her head tilted and rested against his chest and she let out a soft sigh. He felt it like a flash of heat through every one of his limbs.

"I'm _glad_ you're not a prince," she said.

Kristoff let out a humorless chuckle, but he couldn't resist resting his lips against her hair. He lifted his hand to stroke it, slowly. It was even softer than he'd imagined.

"You're glad I'm about to embarrass you in front of all your guests?"

Anna laughed, and he felt that, too.

"It's just you and me and Elsa at supper," she said. "And Olaf, if he wants to join us."

"What about all those diplomats, all those people in the Great Hall?"

She waved her hand, dismissive.

"They can eat in the dining hall, I suppose. We don't." She shrugged. "For thirteen years, Elsa took all her meals on a tray in her room. I ate with my parents until they died, and then I joined the servants in the kitchen so I wouldn't be alone." She poked him in the chest. "I've forgotten _everything_ there is to know about forks. And if they make you want to run, then I'll make Elsa ban fancy flatware," she said firmly, "for good."

Kristoff couldn't help it, he smiled.

"Kai won't like that."

"Kai doesn't like it when I slide down the bannisters," she said. "He doesn't like it when I sing in the portrait gallery or rip my dresses climbing out the windows. This is nothing."

"Anna-"

"I'm not much of a princess, really. More of an awkward mess, actually, so-"

"Stop. You're _Anna_," he said, his voice defensive. He frowned and held her tighter. "You're perfect."

He felt her hand uncurl against his chest until it pressed flat over his heart.

"Then _stay_," she whispered.

He took a deep breath. It was time to be honest with her, with himself.

"Anna, I don't belong here."

She stiffened in his arms.

"Yes, you do. You- you belong with me," she said, at the same moment he gathered all his courage and said,

"But I belong with you."

Anna leaned back to stare at him. He stared down at her, guessing that his eyes and his smile were as wide as hers, if not half as pretty.

"So- so you'll stay?" She reached up and brushed the hair from his forehead. "Even though you don't like it here? Because of me?"

He nodded. He'd known the truth as soon as she stepped into the room, and he shouldn't have forgotten it for a minute. He would do anything, go anywhere, endure tight clothes and stuffy people and furniture painted with flowers... _anything_ for Anna. He was that far gone.

But she didn't need to know that yet. That kind of declaration required forethought, and a speech, and _pants_.

For now, he swept that gorgeous hair behind her ear.

"I raced across a frozen fjord for you, didn't I?" He leaned his forehead against hers, matching her smile. "The least I can do is stay for supper."

**~*~ The End ~*~**


End file.
